Harry Potter and the Templar
by Pzikoz
Summary: Having a tough time after the death of his godfather, Harry, seeing Voldemort going more active and disappointed by Hogwart, enruled himself in a secret organisation, the knights templar, H/HR, Semi-Independant Harry, WIP
1. So it Begin

This is my tryout at translating my fanfic "Harry Potter et l'ordre des templiers". I'm pretty sure there will be a lot of error and some stuff could be strange. Don't hesitate to tell me anything about my grammar, structure, etc. I won't take any offence, I know I have a lot to learn.

Disclaimer : everything you don't recognise is mine, the rest belong to JKR and Warner bros(I think) and bla bla bla.

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the first chapter of my story!

6.1 The Beginning

-{6.1.1}-

His students thought of him as a malicious, cruel and rancorous man. If only they knew the real meaning of those words, and the real meaning of a lot of others. Hatred. Despair. Cruelty. Remorse. Sadism. Devotion. Horror. Courage. These words, they were talking about him, or the one around him at that instant. He was not complaining, he had made a lot of error in his youth and now he had to pay the price. The opinion of his students was just a tiny part of that price. If only those brats knew of his own opinion of the people around him right now. He was pretty sure he would be able to teach them a word or two. He was currently with the Dark Lord himself and his deatheaters, and he was one of them. He hated them, but he had to be there, that was the price he had to pay.

"My lord" started to say Bellatrix, right before being interrupted by the Lord Voldemort's spell.

"_Crucio_" he said slowly. On his lips, a smile, showing his joy that a small word like that could bring so much pain. He stopped his spell then started to speak.

"You know why I'm punishing you. Failing is not an option for those who wish to have the honor of being at my side in my crusade against the mudbloods and their friends." He said, his voice so close to snake's one, the Parseltongue, that people was wandering which language he liked the most, Parseltongue or English. He took a break to cast the Cruciatus curse on another deatheater, then continued his speech.

"Your failure know no limit. Not only were you not able to get the Prophecy, you let Potter destroying it. The informations inside this prophecy would have helped me understand this unfortunate string of events that slowed my rightful ascension to power fifteen years ago."

"One of my contacts told me that Potter had a lot of detentions with Snape during last school year, was he not close enough to get the Prophecy from his mind? After all, if it concern Potter, the old, crazy, headmaster of Hogwart must have told him. It would be kind of idiot, in my opinion, but that wouldn't be the stupidest thing the old man have done." Asked a deatheater. A crazy new guy without a doubt, thought Snape, an idiot soon to be death, he corrected himself.

"Never insult a wizard who is more than you could ever be! He's old, we know, he's excentric, it's public knowledge, but he's the only one which power is even close to mine! If you think Dumbledore's an idiot, what does it mean you think about me?" Voldemort told while closing in the position of the young deatheater, his red eyes holding a promised of pain, his voice full of hatred.

"I… I was believing that… I… You're the most powerful sorcerer of all time, it would never came to me to think that you're an idiot" he said, trying to calm his lord.

"Avada Kedavra" and the name of the deatheater went to history, along with the name of all the victims of the dark lord.

"I hope you learned your lesson" he said, looking the others recruits in the eyes, "it's not a good idea to underestimate your ennemies. Dumbledore is in a world of his own in the fashion and ideas's departments, but, nervertheless, he's a formidable opponent. All of you should pray he never stop to believe in redemption, or else pray to never meet him in a fight. He got a lot of power, not enough to be my equal, but with his manipulations, his allies and his knowledge he have been able to resist me for a long time… but not anymore." He finished, a bad smile on his lips darkening his haunted face, before his eyes came to Snape, who had to use all of his experience not to start shaking, or not to flee.

"Even if he was an idiot, he brought a good point. Make my doubts disappear, my dear Severus, and explain to me and your brothers why you were not able to get the Prophecy from Harry during all the time you spent together."

Snape kept his face and his voice neutrals when he answered, all the eyes looking at him, his only looking in those of the Dark Lord.

"Your assumption is correct. As you all know, Harry is simply horrid in the fine science known as occlumency, as well as in any discipline requiring precision and calm. I have been able to read his mind to my leisure during the hours he spend cleaning cauldron in my classes during his detentions. Unfortunately, he doesn't know anything about the Prophecy, nothing about the first part I brought to you all those years ago and nothing about the rest, the part we all want to know." His eyes never leaving those of the Dark Lord, even after he stopped talking. After a dozen long seconds, the-one-we-never-say-the-name started to talk again.

"Now that this point is clear, it's time to start talking about more … Serious… matters. During this failure in the ministry, I came to an understanding that our dear friend Potter really cared a lot about his doggy godfather. He even tried to hit Bellatrix with the Cruciatus curse. I think the real word to describe his performance would be… pathetic. But the important point is that he was ready to put everything he believe's in aside to tried to get revenge for his godfather" He looked in the direction of Bellatrix, she was still shaking from the Crucatius he casted on her a couple of minutes ago.

"As I was saying, pathetic. You can see the effects of a real Crucatius, when casted by the most powerful wizard of all time! Look at it, and I hope you took note, because tonight you will get the occasion to pratice!" he said, before taking a break, letting his disciples shouting a bunch of "YEAHHHH!", "ALLRIGHT!" and "LONG LIVE TO OUR LORD!". As soon as he opened his mouth again, all the others shuted theirs.

"Tonight, we will attack, to show the world how powerful I am. Because it seem, an outrage mind you, that people doesn't remember me enough to fear me. Sure, some are afraid, but not enough. And the ministry, sending statements after statements, saying they got the control of the situation. But that's the funny thing. Until now, there was no situation. We let them play long enough! This evening, we will make the world remember why my name is so feared, why everybody kneel before me and why I AM THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARD OF ALL TIME! We will even play a little mind game with our dear Potter" he said, spitting on the name of the one-who-lived. He turned to face Bellatrix, still shaking a little bit, and Macnair.

"You two, choose a dozen deatheater and prepared yourself to launch an attack!" It's your only chance to prove your worth to me. Fail… and you will see my anger know no limits. Tonight, you will attack Gloucester. I want you to destroy totaly a street that goes by the name of… London, starting our little mind games with the ministry. As of Potter, there's another small street close to the first, the 'Black Dog Way'. Destroy it too. Don't let anythings others then ashes, deaths, ruins, blackened flesh and MY MARK!"

Bellatrix seem to get back her sadistic life joy and was looking at her master, tears in her eyes "Everythings you want my lord". Macnair just said "At your order, my lord", but his hands was already on his axes, prooving his trepidation. Snape let out a mental sigh, thinking that he would not be able to inform the order of the phoenix, but happy that he was not chosen to go with them. A few minutes later, a dozen deatheather apparated away, and while horror and destructions was beginning in Gloucester, in a small house, kilometers away from there, the one-who-lived awoke, muffling a cry he was about to let out.

-{6.1.2}-

In Little Whinging, Four Privet Drive, nothing seems to disturb the calm of the night. In reality, in the smaller bedroom of the house, a teenager was awake, sweating, trying to recover his breath after a brutal awakening.

"He is dead. I killed him… again… Sirius" he said, between sobs. His dream was still vivid in his mind, the pain as sharp in his heart as when the tragedy occured, a couple of weeks ago. Three weeks, he recall, three weeks since his godfather died, because of him. Sirius Black, marauders, godfather, friend, one of his last links to his long dead parents, sometimes a father, a spark of hope for a better life for the One-Who-_kindof_-Lived. Three weeks, haunted by the surprised face of his godfather, disappearing behind a thin veiled archway. Haunted equally by the sinister laugh of Bellatrix Lestranges, who, like the bell of apocalypse, marked the end of the eventful life of Sirius Black, outcast of his families who found his place in the marauders.

He turned in his bed and looked at his clock. 2:17, he was able to read, mentally putting line where it was missing, without a doubt a demonstration of the 'enthousiasm to get up of Dudley', as have said Petunia the day her son broke it. Close to three hours of sleep, he thought, it was the average of what he was able to get in the last few weeks. Harry let out a sigh and got up. A short night like that could mean some problems for a lot of peoples, but it was allright for Harry. He was accustomed to pretty short sleeping hours. The reason was really simple, horror visions sent by his ennemy, now a mortal ennemy since the director decided, at last, to tell him the truth of the prophecy, and by extensions, of his life. This prophecy pushed Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known and feared under the name of Lord Voldemort, to killed Harry's parents and to try the killing curse on a 'defenseless' baby.

His awful actions would start an instopable reaction that would destroy the life of a lot of people, himself included. The-Boy-Who-Lived would have been happy to be a child like every child, living a happy childhood like the mind of an adult cannot comprehend. Unfortunately, his life was dictated by three differents powers in place.

Lord Voldemort, who started it all while trying to kill him, only to get his killing curse get back at him.

Public opinion, who would called him the-boy-who-lived, when everything is going well singing his greatness, and when there's problems, putting everything on his shoulder while claiming his crazyness.

The third and last power was the one who influenced Harry's life the most, by his actions but mostly by his _inactions_. Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. His first action was, in his qualities of director of the most prestigious magical school in Great-Britain, was to take Harry from the still smoking remains of his parents's house and to take him to his actual place (read prison) of residence. His closest friends knew he was humiliated and neglected there. Some, a little less dense, thought it was worse then just that. The second action Harry was blaming Dumbledore of, was to not have told him sooner the prophecy. When he finaly decided to told him, it was at the worse possible moment.

After all those years of silence, he finally told Harry, after the horrible events of the departement of Mystery, after the heart breaking death of his godfather, killed before his own eyes, he finally told the-one-who-lived there was a prophecy concerning him and the dark lord. Harry now had a choice, become a murderer or a victim, letting the other titles to You-Know-Who, Lord Voldemort.

In spite of all the power who had molded Harry, he knew he only had himself to blame for his shortened night since the beginning of the summer. Even Voldemort didn't seem to disturb his night. The culpability he felt was enough to haunt his nights. He was even surprised that Voldemort was not trying to torture him, but perhaps he thought it was a waste of energy to attack him, when he was able to do it so well by himself. The survivor was _almost_ wishing an invasion of his mind by the dark lord, a way to break the routine.

After a last look at his clock, knowing his sleeping hours was over, he get up silently and went to get his quills, parchements and books. He sit on the floor, his room too small to even get a desk, not that his uncle would have let him have one. He took his defense homework he had started the week before and continued it. Technically speaking, he should have waited for his OWL results before starting his homeworks, but this class was the one he was the best in, the class he was sure to get a great mark. So, he did it first. In reality, he didn't had much choice. He had to do something to kill his night of insomnia, and doing his homework was the only productive things he could really do. Another person, who in normal times would have been the first to thought of maximizing the woken hours, was turning in her bed, unable to fall asleep. Kilometers from Harry, a teenager, close to a young woman, was not able to get any sleep, and since insomnia was highly contagious, her father either was not able to get any sleep.

-{6.1.3}-

In the middle of the night, in his quiet house, even with the reassuring silence, mister Granger was worried about his daughter, 'cause he know she wasn't sleeping yet. At his late hour, she should be at her second or third recount of all the imperfections of her room's ceiling. He wasn't worried she was angry about him being a really, but really bad painter. No, what he was worried about was the number of imperfections his daughter must have counted to try to sleep. Considering his talent in the painting departement, she must have counted a couple of time to infinity, and was still awake.

He tried, along with his wife, to talk to her about her sleeping problem, but she was pretty slient about it, putting the fault on the spell she was hit by at the end of her school year. He have been furious that a boy, this Harry Potter, could bring his daughter in an ill-fated quest where she suffered severe injuries. He had expressed his worries and his anger to his wife, who rapidly reminded her husband that without that boy, they would have lost their little daughter to a huge troll in her first year. She also told him that she had chosen to go with him to the ministry. Mister Granger, like all good father, tried to protect his daughter by suggesting she should perhaps come back to real life, go to a real school. His dear wife, in her wisdom, destroyed again all his plans by bringing the fact that her daughter finally had real friends at school, who liked her for who she was, instead of the brain-hunter who wanted to be her friend only so she could make their homework, like at her last school. His wife was really good at destroying all his well-taught plans. He was calling that her manipulative side. His daughter was calling that her slytherin side.

But the core of the problem was still there, his daughter was not sleeping, and from what the nurse of Hogwart have told them, the fault wasn't the injuries she suffered. His wife, bored to see him coming with more and more absurd reason, finally decided to told him about her observations and hypothesis. After a couple of day of careful observation with those new informations, he didn't have any other choice but to admit she was right.

His daughter was worried about this Harry.

Every single clue was pointing in that direction. Her look every time this boy name was said aloud. The impressive number of letters she was sending him, at least one a day. Her look, filled with hope every time an owl was delivering a letter. The cruel deception written all over her face when she realised it wasn't a snowy owl. His wife and him even decided to learn the name of every single owl coming, to tell their daughter that 'Errol had arrived' or that 'Pig was here', to make sure they didn't create hope before seeing it crushed before their eyes once she discover it wasn't from Harry. But the most heart breaking thing was the sad look of their daughter before going to bed, when she understand that Harry hadn't replied to any of her letter, again. He was sure of the truth of her wife hypothesis, and now, he knew what was preventing his daugther to sleep.

And, by Merlin, was he right. She was worried sick about Harry, her best friend, along with Ronald Weasley. She had litteraly flooded him with letter, too many for her to remember the exact quantity she had sent. What was worrying the most was what she knew the exact number. The quantity of replies she had got.

Zero.

She couldn't stop worrying. She knew the order was receiving a letter every three days, as asked. She even knew their content. 'Order, I'm fine, Harry'. She also knew that Ron had gotten an answer to the only letter he had sent to his best mate, and that Harry had answered every questions of Ron, all about quidditch. And she knew Harry got her letters, because it was Hedwidg who came to get them. So with all these informations, she decided to take another way, she called at the Dursley. So she knew the most important.

Harry wasn't feeling fine. At all.

She had tried numerous times to get to talk to him. Every time, a shrilling voice, that must belong to Harry's aunt, telling her there wasn't any Potter in this house, to not call again, before the line was cut abrubtly. Her chance to talk to Harry came when she called and it was another voice who answered. The voice seemed unsure, like it didn't know what to do, before asking her what she wanted to Harry. When she answered that she wanted to talk to him because she was worried, the voice told her real quick, like it was hiding, that she should try her luck the next day, because Harry would be alone at home. Before she had the time to thank the owner of the voice, he hang up. So the next she called again. She let the phone ring.

A couple of minutes.

Finally, HE answered. The conversation was really short, shorter then the time he took to answer. Harry told her he was fine, not to call anymore because his uncle didn't want him to use the phone. Then he hang up. Politly, but abrubtly. But it wasn't his words nor his actions who worried Hermione.

It was his voices.

It was broken, coming straight from an old horror movie, dead, lacking any emotions. She couldn't help herself but to compare it to Darth Vader voice, and the Sith voice was joyful and overflowing with life compare to Harry's. On those dark thoughts, she let out a sigh, and started again her long count to infinity, not suspecting that kilometers from there, in the smallest room of the Burrow, Ron wasn't able to not fall asleep, even with all his worries about Harry.

-{6.1.4}-

At 4 Privet Drive, Harry put away his parchments, feather and books and went to start the breakfast. He just finished to lay the table a few second before his uncle came into the kitchen. He hurried up to give beacon and eggs to his uncle and aunt. Vernon sit down, grumbling.

"Hurry up! I'm not like… you lot, who just sit around all day doing nothing, I'm a real honest man who work to earn my living! And go get my newspapers! I'm busy eating."

Harry opened the door quickly, look around him to see if there was anything strange in the street, except him, before taking the newspapers and bringing him to his uncle. He then served Dudley, who came in the kitchen while he was outside. Harry then waited a few seconds to see if any member of his 'family' had anything to say or to ask, then took his portions of the breakfast and went to his room under the angry stare of his uncle, who, surprisingly, didn't say anything.

"Don't spill anything on the floor or your bed or else!" shouted his aunt, to whom he didn't even answered, knowing that even if he made a mess in his rooms, he would be the one to clean up. After all, it was one of his numerous tasks around the house. He and his uncle got into an agreement. He would do his chores, a little less numerous then the previous summers, and once they were done, he could go anywhere he wanted. As long as anywhere was in his room or away from the home. The main 'plus' for Harry was that he didn't have to suffer the cutting remark of his Uncle, whose where not up to Snape level, but were nonethe'less pretty annoying. Even Dudley seemed to be a part of the deal, he hadn't yet insulted Harry since the beginning of the summer, having left Harry alone most of the time, the inverse of the last summers. It was a pretty hard thing to do, considering that the one-who-lived couldn't left the home, being kept inside by the members of the order of the phoenix. He was therefore spending most of his time in his tiny room.

"POTTER! Come her RIGHT NOW" shouted Vernon from the dining room while Harry was in the bathroom of the second floor, claening it after his breakfast. He stopped and went downstairs, taking with him the basket of dirty laundry, his next chore when the cleaning would be done.

He hurried up in the kitchen, curious about what was putting his uncle in this state so soon in the morning. When he entered, he found Petunia, Dudley and Vernon in the corridor leading to the living room.

"A ugly, noisy, dirty bird just came in OUR dining room to ruin our breakfast with this… this… letter!" yelled his uncle, pointing toward the table, where a letter was neatly placed right next to Vernon's plate. Harry walked to the table, picked up the letter and looked at the addressee and the sender. It was a missive from the ministry of magic, not to Harry but to 'the residents of 4, Privet Drive'.

"It's a letter to you, 'residents of 4, Privet Drive'. You want to read it uncle Vernon?" said Harry, not able to stop himself to offer it to the close-minded man, just to see all the color leave his face, before switching to an angry red.

"I have nothing to do with you … monsters. Get it out of our sight. It's your stuff, if it wasn't for that damn…" he said, before getting his control back, " if it wasn't of him, you wouldn't been here, especially after your little trick that almost cost Dudley's life last year"

Harry, knowing not to push his luck anyfurther, took the letters and opened it. There was a pamphlet inside, "How to protect yourself from the dark part of the wonderful magical world. A guide to muggle parents with magical children" he read it aloud, before holding it to Vernon. "It's not for me, it's for you" he told them, before asking himself who in the ministry of magic, finaly realized there was muggle parent out there wanting information about the danger hanging over them and their children. This time, it wasn't only to magical parents.

"I told you, and I will not told you again, we want nothing to do with freaks of your species. Get your dirty stuff and go back to your chores" yelled Vernon.

Harry went to his room to put the pamphlet and the enveloppe away from Vernon's eyes, then hurried up to the bathroom to finish his cleaning chores, before Dudley decided to come and made a mess of it just for the sake of seeing his nephew clean it again. He then went to his laundry job, before doing the dishes, the last of his chores for the day. He went back to his room and tried to get Sirius out of his mind by doing his homework, but he wasn't able to forget for a tiny second the tragic destiny of his godfather. He even read the ministry flyers, but he didn't find anything useful for him, already knowing most thanks to Hogwart, mainly his self-taught defense against the dark art. Furthermore, the majority of what was in the guide was purely logical. The guide was definitively destined to muggle, and a muggle like Vernon could have learned a thing or two, like why it was a wrong idea to aim a gun to the face of an half-giant.

In the middle of the afternoon, he got another letter from Hermione. He took it and tossed it in a pile in the corner of his room, joining all the other letters from his friend, their seals still unopened, save the first one. It was the only one he had read, the one that made him toss all the other one without reading them. That letter was all about Sirius, Hermione telling him that he had to go over his sadness and continue to live his life, that Sirius wouldn't want him to waste his life over his death. Harry was furious. "How dare she talk about him!" he had shouted, before thowing it away in a corner. All the subsequent letters had taken the same road, without being read. He tried, without success, to convince Hedwidg to stop going to the Granger. He had thought a fleeting moment to lock her, but his owl was his most faithful friend. Never had she turn her back on him, never had she rejected him. So he decided that tossing a letter or two in a corner of his room every day was little to pay to keep his friendship with Hedwidg. And he didn't want to prevent her from flying, he himself wanted to go on his broom so much…

He went to bed around nine o' clock, trying to sleep, but even as tired as he was because of the lack of sleep in the last month, he wasn't able to fall asleep before midnight. He was not suspecting that a few meters from him, a teenager going by the name of Dudley Dursley too wasn't able to fall asleep.

-{6.1.5}-

Dudley was making round in his bed since close to six hours.

"Soon" he tought aloud. He was waiting for a peculiar sound coming from the other side of the wall. So many differences between them make that this wall didn't even seem to exist since the return of Harry. This wall, in Dudley's eyes, was a physical representation of all those differences. Dudley the spoiled kid. Harry the neglected. Dudley the hooligan. Harry the noble. Dudley the fat. Harry the skeleton-like. Dudley snoring. Harry crying. Dudley and his gang. Harry. Dudley the muggle. Harry the magician. That night was the night, the one where he would try to get a little inside the magical world, his cousin's world. He didn't know, but what he was about to do, get out of his little confortable world, was gryffondor worthy. The few meters between them was everything, and nothing.

A couple of minutes later, the noise so much waited for finally begun to manifest themselves. His cousin was moving in his bed, he was about to wake up. Dudley waited another two long minutes before getting up, doing as little noise as possible, and went to the door to his cousin's room. He opened the door without making any noise and waited until Harry was completely awake.

"Not again! Sirius…" He heard Harry murmured.

"Harry" he said as quietly as possible.

His cousin turn and look at his cousin, sending him an anxious but even more surprised look.

"Dudley? What are you doing here?"

"Harry, the guide, is it talking about… you know, the ugly things that attacked us last summer?"

At that point in the conversation, Harry was completely lost. Dudley, in his room, in the middle of the night, talking about dementors who attacked them, emphasis on the plural, last summer.

"You are talking about the dementors? Yeah, they are talking about them a little."

"Can I read it?"

"Yes, no problem, where is it again? I remember, they are in the corner, next to the letters pile."

Dudley sent an inquisitive look at the letters, took the guide and started to read it, a torchlight giving him the much needed light to be able to see anything in the darkness of the night. That let Harry regain his spirits. He thought that Dudley's new attitude toward him this summer was perhaps not the result of the new rules, but to last year events.

"So, I can't do anything else then run for my life against dementors?" asked Dudley, disappointed.

"I'm sorry but that's the only option for a muggle"

"Does vampires are really existing?Have you ever met one? You think that I could beat one?"

Harry couldn't stop himself from giving a small laugh. "Yes, they are real, no, I don't think you could beat one and I've never met one. But one of my friend is a werewolf"

"Really, how are he?"

"Alive…"

"Sorry, I didn't want to… you know…"

"It's alright… Dragons are real, did you knew?"

"Really? Real like… real?"

"Yes, let me relate to you my two encounters with dragons…"

Amd like that, they started to talk for agood chunk of the night, before Dudley decided to get some sleep, letting Harry to his homework. It was the first of a long series of nights where Harry disclosed to his cousins the world he was living in, a world that was definitively captivating his cousin.


	2. Going Back to 12, Grimmauld Place

A/N : Classic Disclaimer, Everything you don't recognize is mine, otherwise it's JKR(or you hadn't read HP yet, but that's not my problem)

I'm currently looking (unsurprisingly) for a BETA.

Must be good in english(captain obvious!!!!), patient(to tell me yet again to put another word here) and have time to beta my work(another call for the good old captain). A HUGE plus would be to have some basis in french(my first language).

So if you're interested, PM me!

Have fun.

6.2 Going Back to 12, Grimmauld Place

-{6.2.1}-

Harry's days at four, Privet Drive was still as miserable and execrable as ever, but for the last weeks, his nights wasn't as bad. The reason was, as strange as it looked like, Dudley. Spending the night doing homework sure was an efficient way to kill his night, but discussing with Dudley about magic was a lot less boring, whatever Hermione might thought. Harry had finally, following Dudley's advice, sent a response to the numerous letters from Hermione. It probably wasn't his longest nor the letter his friend was waiting, but he thought that "When I feel ready to talk I will talk to you", was a lot better than "Shut up, Will talk when want", the first anwer he had written. Dudley had scraped that one, and send Harry back to work a better one. Harry continued to receive a letter per day from Hermione, all taking the good old road to the corner of his room, but at least, he have been able to remove the 'minimum' word of the last sentence.

Harry was just beginning to eat his breakfast when he saw an owl landing in his room, a letter on his leg. He took the missive, watched the bird taking flight, then get the letter out out of the envelope. He recognised instantly the messy handwriting of Ron and begun to read the message.

_Hey Harry!_

_Did you heard the latest news? __Chudley Cannons almost won a game! Unfortunately, the referee(I'm sure he was corrupt), refused a goal in the last minute of the game that would have tied the game! Damn referee!_

At that point in his reading, there was a huge stroke crossing the letter, and the handwriting changed.

_Hi Harry, it's Ginny_

_I just wanted to tell you that everybody here(all the family, even Ron),are missing you and we are all eager to see you again soon. Sorry for the stroke, I kindof have taken the letter straight from Ron when he was still writing.(He wouldn't have given it to me otherwise)._

Another stroke, the handwriting going back to the messy one of Ron.

_Sorry, my little baby sister stole my letter. Well, I should tell you right now(before Ginny take my new__s away) that tonight, 22h, you will get some company to bring you you-know-where. Send Hedwidg to the Burrow, you will be able to come get her tomorrow. There seem to be some formalities with you-know-where. Don't worry, even if you're alone tonight, tomorrow I will be there. Allright Ginny, we will be there. _

_See ya tomorrow!_

_Ron_

"I guess I have to tell the good news to the Dursley" he thought aloud. He went downstairs, avoiding the creaky steps out of habit, then went straight to the living room, where the Dursley were watching the television.

"Vernon, some members of the order will come get me tonight at ten o'clock, I'm leaving for the rest of the summer" he simply told them.

"Are they thinking of destroying my living room again or will they act like civilized people this time, if only it's possible for you lot". Vernon replied, with a face that would without a doubt make Snape envious.

"They will come by the front door, at nighttime so that no neighbours will se anything, and we will leave as fast as possible. Do you have any others questions?"

"No, go get yourself ready. You won't have to do any chores today so make sure you're ready when they arrived. That way, they won't stay longer then necessary. And don't forget anything! Don't think we will send you anything you forget or that you will be welcome to come again this summer, even for just a minute to get some stuff!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon, don't worry" said Harry while going back to his room. He immediately started packing the totality of his possession in his trunk. He hesitate a moment when he saw Hermione's letters, but in the end, he decided to dump them all in his trunk. At the end of the afternoon, he was done. There was something depressing about knowing that the totality of your possession could fit inside a trunk, extension charm or not.

He was about to go downstairs to get something to eat when he heard someone knocking at his door.

"Come in Dudley" he said, knowing full well that his aunt wouldn't have knocked, even less his uncle. They would have simply barged in, his uncle while slamming the door.

"Take this Harry, I told my father that your 'protectors' wouldn't be happy if you were leaving hungry" his cousin told him, holding out a plate full of food.

"Thanks Dudley" Harry said, taking the much needed supper.

"Hey Harry, if I let the window of my room for the first night of each month, or at least make sure the owls can get in, could you send me news, told me if you finally saw some vampire." He finished, with a smile on the corner of his lips.

"No problems, but honestly, I don't thing I really want to see any vampires, I got enough problems with a dark lord." Truthfully, Harry was really beginning to like having someone to talk to at Privet Drive. It was a way for him to say he was appreciating Dudley's company.

"I'm quite happy to see you brought those letters with you. I think she really care about you that girl, whatever you say. Well, we're going in town, so we won't have to see 'your freaky kind' as said my dad. I love him but sometimes… anyway, don't forget to send me some news, goodbye!"

"I won't forget, see ya Dudley" answered Harry, watching his cousin closed the door.

When his meal was over, he went dumpstair where he let his trunk near the front door, then went to the kitchen where he washed the dishes out of habit, before going to the living room to watch tv. He watched some brain washing variety show, competing over the title of the dumbest one. He then switched to another network, where he watched the end of a movie, and since it was now close to ten o'clock, he switched off the television then went to the entrance hall to wait for his bodyguards. A few minutes later, a knock on the door was heard.

-{6.2.2}-

Harry opened the door and saw Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Bill Weasley, Remus, a wizard he didn't recognised, Tonk, and a big black dog named Padfoot behind them. Harry took another look, but there was nothing behind them. Just an hallucination, Sirius wasn't there, Padfoot was dead. He tried to hide his disappointment, but his look was not lost to at least one of the wizards in front of them.

"What? You were waiting for someone else? We're not good enough for you? I know! You were hoping for a beautiful brunette?" said the unknown order's member, smiling. He was the only one.

"Shut up Diputs! We're not here for your stupid joke. Potter, you've got your trunk? All set? Good! We can leave. Put on your invisibility cloack and get on your broom!" said Mad-Eye dryly, as always. But Tonk, Bill and Remus too didn't look eager to spend more time in the Dursley's house. Harry hurried up to find his cloack in his trunk, took the broom Moody was holding out and got in the air. The six wizard started the difficult journey that would lead them to Number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

The trip was long and boring, but that let Harry observe the damage that Sirius's death caused on Tonk and Remus. Tonk seem less happy and carefree that the last time he had seen her. Remus was way worse. He was looking so miserable that Harry thought for a second that it was because of his furry problem. But the full moon was two weeks ago, plenty of time for Remus to get back on his feet. But it wasn't to be. If Tonk looked less happy, Remus was simply dejected.

"Turn, 27°" everybody followed Alastor's order, without saying even a word.

An hour later, Mad-Eye announced the beginning of the descent and, after having flown over the street three time, everybody landed between the eleven and the thirteen, Grimmauld Place. Harry looked at the Black residence and let out a sigh, he didn't want to think about what was waiting for him inside the house, so he begun walking to the house, when he became aware that everbody else had stay behind. He looked at them with curious eyes.

"Is there a problem?"

"You see the house Potter?" asked Moody.

"Sure, you shown it to me last year, you remember?"

"I remember it pretty well, Potter! If you can see it, it's because you must be the new owner! Every charm, including the Fidelius charm, had been transferred to you. Now move your smart-ass over here, take a quill and a parchment and hurry up so we can get in! We're sitting target here! A deatheather could see us and discover the location of our still hidden headquarter!"

Harry searched in his bag, got a quill and a piece of parchment, wrote the adress of his deceased godfather's house, and shown it to every order's members. Harry let out another sigh, and turning toward the house, went to the house, followed by every of his bodyguards this time. He opened the door, and entered the noble and ancient house of Sirius.

-{6.2.3}-

Harry entered the house and the first thing he saw was the house-elf partly responsible for the death of his godfather. In Harry's mind, Kreacher took a part of the blame, but the survivor was still taking the biggest chunk of the blame for the death of his godfather. But, it was easier and a lot more satisfying to kill the house-elf partly responsible then doing the same thing to himself.

"Kreacher! YOU DIRTY CREATURE! COME HERE SO I CAN SKIN YOU ALIVE!" Harry begun to scream before trying to jump on it. Trying, 'cause Remus and Moody had anticipated Harry's reaction and were holding him tightly, stopping him from putting his threats in action, but the one-who-lived could still scream.

"LET ME GO! I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE INSIDE! I'LL HUNG YOU! LET ME GO!"

"Calm down Harry, it's not the time for revenge!" Remus was trying to calm him, but in vain.

"YOU UGLY MONSTER! TRAITOR! DUMBASS! SON OF A MALFOY!" Harry was abruptly cut in his monolog by Bill, who stunned him. He did the same to the old house-elf.

"Good idea Bill, I forgot Kreacher, but even if I want to put Harry's menaces in actions, I don't think it's either the time nor the moment" said Remus with a scowl, "Diputs, take care of the elf, bring it to Dumbledore, he will surely know what to do with it, before Harry reclaim it."

"No problem Lupin." Answered Diputs, taking the stunned elf and then leaving Grimmauld place, apparating to Hogsmeade.

"Petrificus Totalus", "Ennervate"

"Well Harry, you will now calm down and listen to me. Sirius hated Kreacher and that elf gave his master a miserable life, not by choice, but because he existed. Kreacher was for Sirius a reminder of every painful moment he had lived here, and Sirius was for the house-elf a traitor to his family, a threat for his Black master. Yes, Kreacher played a part in Sirius Death, but do I have to remind you that he's not the only one responsible."

Remus eyes never left Harry while talking. Once he was done, he let Harry behind without a second look and left the house, apparating away. Harry couldn't have felt more miserable then he was at that exact moment. It was already painful to feel guilty, but now he knew that Remus was considerating him responsible for the death of his best friend.

"I'll let you here to think until the spell fail, take this time to think about the consequence that could've happen if you had put your threats in actions. We will be in the kitchen" said Bill before leaving.

Harry tried to think about everything that could've happened, but he wasn't able to focus on anything else than what Lupin had told him. It wasn't just the old house-elf fault, his godfather death was, for a large part, Harry's own fault. Thirty minutes later, Harry went to the kitchen, looking pretty bad.

"So Harry, what would be the consequences?" asked him Moody as soon as he put a foot on the kitchen's floor.

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure of what would happen if Remus was as indulgent with me then I was with the house-elf. I'm going to Siri… my room."

Tonk, Bill and Mad-Eye watched him left, before starting to talk.

"I think Remus was a little rough on him. The poor guy don't look like it will take much more to break him"

"I know you're right Bill, but it was really hard on him to lose what was a lot more than a brother to him. But I know Remus pretty well, when he will be calmed down he will be able to forgive Harry for the small part he played in Sirius's death. And then he will feel guilty about what he said to James's son. But there's someone he will never forgive. Bellatrix."

"And you Tonk, did you forgave Harry already?" Bill asked her.

"Not totally. Sirius was the only cousin I cared about. But I know I'm closer to forgiveness then Remus his. Well, I got to go, auror's duty tomorrow, see ya" she ended her sentence with a yawn, before leaving to her home.

"Well Alastor, it look like we're the ones with the guard duty tonight!"

"Pfff, it really look like that. Well, you take the first watch, have fun looking at the numerous wards aroud here, I'm going to sleep, wake me at six o'clock tomorrow morning for my watch. Oh, When I wake up I want a dark coffee, two sugars, ready on the table" and before Bill could say anything, Moody had left to sleep in one of the room. Knowing it was a real bad idea to woke Alastor before the beginning of his watch, he made himself a lot of coffee, for what looked like a pretty long awoken night.

-{6.2.4}-

Bill had finished looking at the various ward of the house at last two hours ago when suddenly Harry walked in the kitchen. The cursebreak looked at the clock, it told him it was 2h37, then he turned to face Harry.

"What the heck are you doing up at this late hour? Don't tell me I'm not asleep, it's my watch duty… but you, you should be in your bed"

"I woke up and I wasn't able to go back to sleep. You sound like you could use some sleep, go for it, I will take the guard duty"

"Yeah, riiiiiight. I'm here to look after you, to guard you, and I'll go to sleep when I left you all alone protecting yourself? Come on Harry, I know you're not bad in defence and all, but do you really believe my mother would let me live if she learned about that?"

"You're probably right. Why don't you wake up Moody? He's still here isn't he?"

"I won't wake him up, I still have way too many years to live to die in such a stupid way, but if you want to see Death up-close, go for it"

"I think I've seen Death close enough lately thank you… I'm going back to my room"

"Harry, I didn't want to say that, I know that…" But the words had already been said, they had already hit the survivor right in the heart, so he went to his room without looking behind.

"Damn! I think I could give lesson to little Ron in how to put your foot in your mouth. That was one of the worst thing I could have said to him…"

-{6.2.5}-

It was eight o'clock when the one-who-lived finally got out of his room. He had completed his defence against the dark arts homework during the night and he had already begun to miss Dudley's company. His only spark of hope that he would see the Weasley during the day. He came into the kitchen and greated without any enthusiasm Alastor, who had a black coffee two sugar on the table in front of him. He was the only other person awake in the house with Harry.

"Good morning professor"

"I'm not, and I've never been your teacher. Drop the title"

"Alright"

"I think it's time to go get the Weasley, Potter" he said, finishing his cup of coffee in one final gulp. "Damn, that Bill make really good coffee, I think I'll always ask to take my watch right after his now. Anyway, we have a pretty busy day ahead of us. Better start it as soon as possible!"

" Busy?"

"Yeah Potter, busy. Ah, yeah, I forgot, you don't know yet. Well, I'm sorry to be the one to announced it, but today, after lunch, it's the reading of the will of your godfather"

Harry felt like a bludger hat just hit him in the stomach. He felt it's weight in his belly. The reading of the will of Sirius was just a few hours away. Another proof that his godfather wasn't simply waiting for him on the other side of the thin veil, was just scheduled after dinner.

"Believe me, I know how hard it is my boy. But there's nothing better then going wake up the Weasley at the Borrow. We will take some floo-powder to travel, and a bucket full of freezing water to wake them"

To Harry, as tempting as it was to go wake up Ron with the traditionnal bucket of ice-cold water, travelling using the floo network with the weigh of a canonball in the stomach doesn't seem like a good idea, at all. It was such a bad idea that Harry didn't even realised that Moody had used a pretty strange concept for him… humour.

Being helped by the old auror, not to say Alastor was literally dragging him, Harry went to the fireplace. He then took a some floo powder from the the jar that Moody was holding out to him, not to say Mad-Eye put a handful of it in Harry's right hand, then the survivor jumped in the fireplace, not to say Moody pushed him inside, then the one-who-lived, holding his arms close to his body, yelled as clearly as possible

"THE BURROW!"

-{6.2.6}-

Harry once again proved that his favorites magical mean to travel was the broomstick by falling over in the middle of the Burrow's living room. He was even able to polish a part of the floor with his left cheek.

"Harry" Molly said coming in the living room, worried about him. She helped him going up and about and gave him a trademarked Molly-hug©, before the Weasley matriarch helped him removed the dust from his shirt.

"Hello miss Weasley, how are you today?"

"I'm allright, and you my dear Harry?"

"Pretty good" answered Harry, which made Alastor's only eyebrow rise.

"Ron is in his room right now, you can go wake him if you want, rather if you are able to. You can go wake Ginny too on your way if you want"

Harry went upstairs to Ron's chamber, opened it without making a sound, then thought about his options. Weighting them, he end up taking a sock on the floor, he had a lot of choice knowing that Ron's laundry basket was his room's floor. He took one who seem pretty used, who smelled bad but he wasn't in an advanced state of decay as some of the others, then he took it and throwed it, with a large movement, right on Ron's face. It didn't take long for Ron to react right like the survivor had anticipated. The visage of his friend began to twitch, then after a few second he took a long breath then immediately his eyes opened, then he sit up on his bed yelling

"What is going on?" then, looking at his dirty sock with disgust, he rised his eyes and saw his best mate, the responsible of his brutal awakening.

"Harry! You almost killed me! You know there's better way of waking up a friend? Slower and well, a way that won't came close to give me a heart attack!"

"Let's go Ron, get up, I'll wait for you downstairs. And for the way a woke you, that was the most efficient one. I had to go wake up Ginny too, with your yell, it's already done" Indeed, they were able to hear Ginny's grumbling at Harry's methodology used to wake them.

Harry went back to the ground floor and started to eat the breakfast prepared for him by Molly. Bill was already in the dining room, having decided that his Burrow's bed was a lot more confortable then Grimmauld place's couch. He was talking to his mother before going to a well-earned sleep, if only for a few hours. A few minutes after Harry came into the kitchen, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"And to whom do I get the honor of being woken so early?" asked Ginny, a little angry, but her sentence lost angryness and vigourness when she saw who was responsible.

"Harry! How are you?"

"Good and you" at this, one of Bill's eyebrow got up so quickly of incredulity that it was almost as it was thrown away from his face. Only Molly noticed it, and frowned at her son.

"Yes, it's going really well, I'm so glad you're here, you're gonna stay isn't it" Ginny, on her part, continued her joyful conversation, even if she knew that Harry wasn't going as well as he was claiming.

"I don't know, I'll see to that during today" Harry's voices was losing power as he went along his sentences and at the end, his voices was only a murmur. He didn't know if he was going back to Grimmauld place, his late godfather's house,but he guessed that for security's concern after the will's reading. He was saved from explaining everything to Ginny who was about to ask why, by Ron who came into the kitchen.

"You don't have any idea how cruel what you did to me this morning is" Ron said first thing.

"What have Harry done to you Ron?" Molly asked, worried for her youngest son. Harry, knowing he would be better then a half-asleep and grumpy Ron to explain, described his methodology, including how to choose the best sock for the job.

"Allright! Now I will know how to wake you up Ron!" Molly stated, quite happy and relieved that Harry's cruelty just gave her a new mean of waking the ever sleeping Ron. Or to make him tidy up his room if he ever grew bored of waking up with a sock on his face.

The morning was relax, made of chess game and exploding snap. Before Harry had time to lose for the fourth time, Molly came to told them to get ready.

"Let's go everybody, it's time to go to Diagon Alley. It will be by floo powder. Sorry Harry, we got nothing better then that for now" Harry had the feeling that this time would be worst then the last one, the cannonball he seem to drag since the beginning of the day just seem to have gotten twice bigger in the last few seconds.

"Hurry up, faster, we're gonna be late, go, faster, faster!" Molly was hurrying them.

Harry was the first to leave.

"Diagon Alley!"

And Harry, was the first to fall over when he reached the other side.


	3. Padfoot's will

A/N Sorry for the long wait. We're in a rush at work and I work 6 days a week so it left me with little time to write/translate. Stil looking for a beta to help me with my horrid english.

For those who might be wondering, the french version of this fic is currently 20 chapters/ 141 thousands words long.

This chapter is for ell_the_weasel. Thank for your encouragements. And yeah, Harry and Hermione will meet in this chapter.

6.3 Padfoot's Will

-{6.3.1}-

As soon as he got out of the fireplace, face on the floor, he had the reflex to move to let the others come in without problems. Unfortunately his seeker reflex failed him, cause as soon as he started to move, Ron fall on him. Then Ginny. Then Molly. Then Moody. Who was pretty pissed off of being caught unprepared because a _kid_ didn't know how to floo properly. He promised himself that if he had to teach him someday, first thing would be floo landing.

When they were finaly able to get everybody out of the fallen human pyramid, they started going to Gringotts while dusting theirs cloaks. Molly looked at the hour and, hurried everybody up, her face a little bit worried.

"Hurry up! We're late and Merlin know goblins hate to wait "

Now everybody was walking _fast_, or to run slowly, because, even if they were late, you couldn't run on Diagon Alley, it just couldn't be done. When they got to Gringotts, it was Moody who spoke, going to the first counter he saw.

"We're here for Sirius Black's will reading!!"

The goblin looked at them angrily and answered.

"You are late. Under normal circonstances you would have simply got excluded of the will, but it seems that those close to Sirius who know the value of time and got there at the appointed hour asked to wait for you. Follow me"

They followed the goblin to one of the door at the back of the bank central room and brought them, throught a series of doors and innumerable corridors, to a door and simply told them.

"It's here"

Harry was the last one to get in. He didn't felt well at all. Surprisingly, he have been able to 'run' with the huge weight in his belly, but he wasn't able to make the little step who would bring him to the other side of the door. Strange, how a simple door can represent so many thing. Moody, still a little annoyed, took him by the shoulders and push him in the room, then closed the door, still grumbling about the floo landing. He clearly wasn't one of the heirs of Sirius. The goblin, quite irritated, started as soon as the door was closed, so fast that Harry didn't have the time to see the look part worried, and part angry of Hermione.

"Well, it now seem that everybody have arrived. It want to remind you that this will reading was supposed to start about ten minutes ago. Well, now that it's said, we'll stop losing time about that and useless talk and we'll go straight to the core of this meeting. I'm Gobz Grizlwichtk, executor of the noble and ancient Black family. I'll now start the will's reading of Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black.

"Me, sir Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black, to my biggest regret I may add, am declaring that I'm doing this will without pressure nor dark influence, today August fourteenth 1994. I give Arthur and Molly Weasley the sum of 1500 galleons, with the obligation to spoil youselves and your respectable number of little rascals. I give to Hermione Granger the sum of 1000 galleons, to thanks her of her rightly timed intervention. I also give her my broom, who have seen a couple of too many miles, but he's still running, that old Cleansweep 4.I give Ron the sum of 1000 galleons, so he may buy himself a pet better then a dirty, ugly, traitor son of a rat. I bequeath Remus Lupin, my accomplice in the Maraudeur, the total of 1000 galleons, so he may buy himself a new wardrobe, your robes really are in pitiful state old pal. How are you going to get a girl if you look like an inferi? I bequeath 5000 galleons to Sir Bernard DeLaRochelle. Finally, I bequeath the remaining of my vault to Harry James Potter, around 3000 galleons, plus all the jewels, artefacs and junk remaining in it. I also give him all Black property, including 12, Grimmauld Place. Finally, I'm giving in my motorcycle, to be hold by Remus Lupin until my godson reach his majority. I'm giving him all of this so he may forgive me to have put his safety and well-being after my little vendetta, a complete failure I may add, that brought me in prison. The goblin put the letter on his desk, look at the group of humans in front of him and continued to speak.

"Every beneficiator must come here to sign an attestation, so that the money will be trasfer to your vault. For those who're still not one of our clients, my assistant Goliskt is present so you may open an account here. If you have any question, don't hesitate to come to me" Count on the goblin to take advantages of a will to get new clients.

A man quite tall, in a moggle toxedo, probably Sir Bernard The-Something thought Harry, went to the goblin and signed all the necessary paperworks. Ron, Hermione, her broom being sent to 12, Grimmauld Place by owlpost, Remus and Molly went, one after the other, sign the papers. Harry, the only one who still hadn't went to the goblin, got up and, painfully, walked to the goblin.

"Mister Potter, do you wish to keep the Black vault or would you prefer that its contents be transfered to the Potter vault?"

"Just put everything in my vault" answered Harry, his voice broken from emotions.

"Mister Potter, I can, if you want, make a list of all property you just inherited, or I can wait until you came back on a better day for you"

"I'll come back another day"

"Very well. Just sign here" answered the goblin, giving him a pen and a parchment. When he was done, he was stopped by the man in the muggle toxedo.

"Hi mister Potter, I'm Sir Bernard DeLaRochelle, a friend of your godfather. I wish we could have met under better circonstances. Can I talk to you a moment, it's pretty important" Harry nodded then they both went to an unoccupied corner of the room.

"Well mister Potter, I want to talk a little to you about your godfather. You must be wondering why he gave me all this money." Harry nodded, and the man continued to talk, "It's pretty simple. Sirius was, like me, a templar. He was a member of the Order of the Templars. The five thousands galleons is the money he received upon joining the order. This money is a loan, lent to the order's members until their death. They give it back to the order in their will."

"My godfather was a templar? And what exactely is the order of the templars?"

"The order of the templar is an old and complex order and it would be long and difficult for me to answer completely your question, but I can tell you what we're doing. We are fighters. Every templar must train everyday, magically and physically, to make sure that we will be up to the task when we will be called to fight, when war is declared. We are always on the same side of war, we're on the side against the dark. Some say we are a mercenary army at the services of the light. It's perhaps the simpliest way of telling it."

"Are you engaged in a war against Voldemort?"

"We will enter the war when there's one. As long as your ministry doesn't declared war against the dark lord Voldemort, we can't act. It would be a political nightmare, and it would bring a lot of trouble. But enough talk for now, your friends all want to talk to you" said the templar, without even looking behind him, where the Weasleys, Hermione and a couple of others were watching them impatiently. "I'll leave you, following your late godfather recommendation, this book, explaining a little bit of what we are, but mainly, lessons to fight the dark arts and their followers. They aren't really advanced in my opinion, but they could give you some tips and an idea of what it is to be in the order of the templar. If you're interested, in due time, I'll find you. Just, think a bit about it."

Sir Bernard DeLaRochelle left without any other word, and before Harry even had the time to say good bye, he was attacked by Molly, who took him in her arms so hard Harry thought he heard a couple of his bone crying. When she let him go, the one-who-lived saw his two best friend, Ron and Hermione, looking at him with a sad face. The latter begun walking toward Harry, looked at him and was about to speak when Molly started to talk, stopping Hermione on her tracks.

"I think we should go shopping so we could get those dark thoughts out of our minds. Come on you three"

They followed the Weasley matriarch outside the bank, where Moody was waiting for them and Harry, when he didn't saw Remus, had to accept that the last marauder have left, waiting saying a single word to him.

MadEye accepted to escort them during their shopping trip.

"I want to go to the quidditch shop!" almost shouted Ron.

"We will go Ron, but you can't throw away all the money you got here today in quidditch gear and useless junk. You must spend the money wisely" answered his mother.

Harry was walking a little bit behind the other, deep in thought. He heard Hermione murmuring to herself.

"Why did he gave me that, what am I supposed to do with his old broom. I _hate_ flying!"

Following Ron lead, they all got to the quidditch shop, and, despite all Ron's nagging and pressuring, Hermione didn't bought any accessory or kit to refresh her newly acquired broom.

After their shopping, they went to the Borrow, but it was only a short stopover. Now that they knew for sure Harry had inherited 12, Grimmauld Place, they could go without fear as the new owner had given his consent to let the order continue to use it as its headquarter. So they all went by floopowder, Harry first. But this time's around, they waited a minute before sending the next person, to make sure they was no repetition of the morning arrival.

-{6.3.2}-

_"__Devour... I Devour... Devour... I Devour_

_Everything in my path_

_Ransack, devastate by my offend_

_No reason to stop_

_Neither age nor time can exhaust me_

_You may think I'm crazy_

_But I do what I like_

_That's it that's all" - Crude translation of the song '__Un poing c'est tout' by Anonymous_

As soon as he got in the house, he went to Sirius's room and slammed the door. He sent a _muffliato _on the room and a_ collaporta _on the door and let his rage roam free.

"WHY DID YOU DIE! WHY DID YOU LEFT ME ALL ALONE!' And Harry begun to destroy any object around him, anything that was on his path was doomed to be destroyed, be it by hand or by wand.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU STAY HERE? WHY DID YOU WENT TO PLAY THE HERO?" The One-Who-Lived continued to scream his rage and to destroy anything that he could lay his hands on, until nothing was left unbroken. He then turned around facing the wall and punched the wall as hard as he could, his fist screamed pain, the wall didn't even had a scratch on it, it fueled the rage inside Harry, who punched the wall again, creating a hole in it.

The pain inside Harry's hand finally became stronger than his rage, and that pain called upon the one inside the survivor's guts. The pain of losing Sirius in turn called the guilt of having killed him, and throwing himself on Sirius's badly beaten bed, Harry curl up and thought of Remus's blaming look, Tonk's sadness and everything all of his friends had to go throught because of him. That night, Morpheus arms never came close to reach the survivor.

The next days looked pretty much the same in the eyes of one Harry Potter. After a sleepless night, he got out of his room before dawn, so to not meet anyone, took a light breakfast, let some of his dishes around so Molly knew he had eaten and will not come and make a scene, and then, he went back to his room. Following was a magic pratice session. He begun it with a lengthy _Reparo_ session, repairing everything he had broke the day before. Then a little bit of _Wingardium Leviosa_ and _Muffliato_, to preserve his privacy. Harry's mood was a real rollercoaster. Except there was nothing fun there, and the only two temper's changes was from sad to enraged, and enraged to sad. At dinner's time, somebody would shout at him that the dinner was ready, he tried to make his face the most neutral he could, it always took him a couple of minutes, then he would go down to eat. He would eat as fast as he could then he would go back to his room, for another session of rage and despair.

-{6.3.3}-

Three days after the Harry's _merry-go-round_ begun, three never-ending days for her, three days after Sirius's will reading, Hermione got fed up. She couldn't take it anymore. Seeing Harry mutilating himself, mentally sure, but it was still self-mutilation, and she couldn't let him continue. Molly was always telling them to let time do his job, to let Harry alone as long as he needed, to let him grieve. It couldn't be that bad, Ron's mom was saying, he was eating everyday and it looked like he was sleeping most of the time, since nobody have ever heard sound coming from his room.

Hermione was not considered the most brillant witch of her generation for nothing. Sure, there was no sound coming from his room, but he was not an idiot and she was faily sure that he had cast some spell to muffle and reduce any sound coming from his hoped Harry didn't got any warning concerning his out-of-school underage use of magic, but it wasn't really ranked high on her worries list.

Although Harry was good, really good even, to hide all emotion on his face when he got down to eat, there was one thing he hadn't been able to learn from Snape, and that was to mask the emotion in his eyes. Hermione, everytime thoses eyes meet hers, during this fleeting moment before Harry turn his eyes away, she saw sadness and hatred in them.

That was why, the night of the third day, technically the beginning of the forth, Hermione decided, against every adults recommandations, to go see Harry. She got out of her room furtively, and went to Sirius's old bedroom, where she tried her best to open the door. In vain. Harry had visibly locked the door. _Alohomora_ she tried, too worried about Harry to care about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. She heard a faint click, and tried to open the door, but she wasn't able to push it a centimeter. The young witch thought that her friend knew her too well, he hadn't just locked the door, he must had litteraly barricade himselft. The heavy dressers she had seen a couple of days ago in the room must now be pushed against the door, forbidding anybody to cross the door without Harry's help.

Hermione thought for a couple of seconds and she thought that she too, knew her friend really well and had an idea to how she would enter the master bedroom of Grimmauld place. 'Well' She thought, 'it seem I will indeed have to use Sirius's broom. I wonder if he gave it to me because he thought that would be inevitable... Probably not... not his style. He would have given me a sledgehammer instead'

She went to her room to pick her broom, being extra careful to not wake up Ginny, got out of the house and went straight under the window of Harry's room. Her guesses seems to be right, as the window didn't look barricade. She moved as closed as possible to the window, calculating her angle so to take the shortest path to the window.

'Who said trigonometry was useless to wizard?' she thought, before getting on her broom, going slowly up to Harry's window, opened it and prepared herself to the inevitable confrontation with her friend.

-{6.3.4}-

Harr was in the twilight between awakening and sleepiness, a partly sleeping state in a way. He was seeing Sirius falling throught the veil, looking at his nephew.

"Help me! Why aren't you coming to save me, why did you came here, why did you brought me here, why did you _killed_ me." Harry was trying to get to Sirius, but he was unable to do so, two people were holding him.

"Let me go! I want to help him, I want to save him!" he said, looking at the people holding him, just to see that he wasn't held anymore, Remus was.

Remus threatening him, looking at him with his eyes full of sorrow and hate, being hold by Bill and Moody.

"POTTER! YOU DIRTY CREATURE! COME HERE SO I CAN SKIN YOU ALIVE!" and Harry couldn't move, he couldn't back up, he was stupefied by terror and fear. He take a look at Bill, who was giving him a strange stare.

"You know Potter, I will fulfill one of your dearest wish, you wanted to see Death up-close, now look at the sky!"

Harry watched, terrified, the full moon being unveiled as the clouds was moving away from the celestial sphere. He then heard Remus howling, he turned his gaze upon his former teacher, noted filled with horror that Bill and Moody wasn't holding Remus anymore. He was now in a circle, made of the Weasley, Tonks, Hermione, Dumbeldore and all those who had known and loved Sirius, and he was in the center, with an enraged werewolf. All he could decern outside the circle was a cemetary, they were all in a cemetary, and a little bit further, he was able to see a now sinister mansion, the Riddle Manor. He crawled to Dumbledore, implored the headmaster to help him before the werewolf killed him. The old wizard didn't even look at him, he just pushed him away with his foot. Harry looked around, and ran to Ron, and begged his friend to help him.

"Why? So I would die like anybody who cross your path? Dead? Get away from me!"

Harry looked away, only to be at the feet of Sirius.

"You fancy yourself a hero, well, if you continue like this, one day you'll really be one. Only, a hero is alone, you should understand that, you should leave them instead of killing everybody who care about you!"

Harry felt his feet being pulled, Remus, in his werewolf form, was starting to bite his legs. He was thrown on the other side of the circle, rose his eyes to see his father and mother looking at him.

"We gave our life for you! The only way you found to thank us was to send upon a premature death my best friend?" Harry was again thrown away by Moony to the middle of the circle. He could now feel the hoarse breathing of the werewolf on his neck. Trying to flee all this, the survivor closed his eyes and he felt immediately like someone was trying to pull his brain appart. Voldemort was there, right before him, his face blurred but easily recognizable.

"Come with me Potter, join my glorious army and our rightful rebellion. You and me are the same, it's only a fate fluke that you're not a Slytherin. We are of the same species, we share the same blood. Come and rejoin your brothers." But there was something that wasn't right. Harry realise he was now on the other side of the veil.

-{6.3.5}-

Hermione made as little noise as possible putting her broom near the window. She turned her gaze upon Harry, who looked like he was asleep, looked like he as in the middle of a nightmare. When she got closer, she saw it wasn't a nightmare. Harry had both eyes wide open, was holding himself as tightly as possible, in a foetal position, shaking from head to toes.

"… just look at me please… Sirius, help me… I didn't want… I'm sorry… don't kill me Moony… it's not what I wanted... mom…please… "

Hermione felt her heart doing a complete turn on itself in her chest, before breaking in half. It was way worse than what she had prepared herself to. She slowly came closer to her friend.

"No Remus please… No I'm not like you… No… "

Harry suddently woke up from his torpor when he heard Hermione near him. He looked at her a couple of seconds, his brain seemed to reboot itself, and when that was done, Harry's face went from dumbstruck to furious.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET AWAY FROM ME! GO BACK HOME!"

"Harry it's not your fault, Sirius choose to go there, he decided to go, he's dead protecting someone he loved, it's what he would've wanted "

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU! I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO REPEAT IT TO YOU?!"

"Harry, you would've done the same thing for him, except him, he wouldn't lock himself in his room, not talking to anybody and doing self-mutilation, looking to punish himself for something he isn't responsible!"

"NOT RESPONSIBLE! SO TELL ME WHO COULD BE RESPONSIBLE EXCEPT ME! IT WAS BECAUSE OF ME HE WAS THERE, IT'S BECAUSE OF ME HE'S DEAD!"

"AND WHY DID YOU WENT THERE HARRY? TO SAVE HIM, THE SAME THING THAT BROUGHT HIM THERE. IT'S VOLDEMORT WHO BROUGHT YOU THERE!"

"IT'S ME THAT WAS… I'M RESPONSIBLE… IT'S ME WHO…"

"No Harry, you got it all wrong. Voldemort is a lot more responsible then you for Sirius's death. Bellatrix is more responsible then you in the death of his cousin. Sirius choose to go there, knowing all the risks and odds, because he cared a lot about you."

"BUT… BUT…" and Harry let himself fall on the floor, started to cry, crying like he hadn't done for years. Hermione took him in her arms,gently soothing him, whispering wise and tender words in his ears until he got himself back under control.

"It's my fault you almost died Hermione, why are you still here? You would be better off far away from me. Everybody I love end up dead…"

"Harry, it's not your fault I was in the department of mystery, it was mine. I decided to go, it was my decision, my responsibility so don't try to put the blame on yourself. Stop feeling guilty over all misfortures that fall upon you."

The two youg teenagers stayed silents, both lost in their own thoughts. Hermione was still holding Harry in her arms and after a short time lapse, he felt asleep, and for the first time since Sirius's death, he enjoyed a peaceful sleep. Half an hour later, Hermione took Harry as gently as she could, trying not to wake him up, and drag him to his bed where she put him as confortable as she could. She stayed there for some time, and after a while, making sure Harry was deeply asleep, she moved the numerous piece of furniture barricading the room's door, and went to her room, where she was fast asleep, enjoying the few hours remaining to the night.

-{6.3.6}-

13h30 was the time, and Molly was really starting to be worried. Sure, she was always worried about William having an accident in a remote tomb, Charlie being eaten by a dragon, Percy being eaten by a stack of paperwork, Fred and George not going back to school, Ronald deciding it would be a wicked move to block a quaffle with his head and Ginerva deciding to flirt with a Malfoy, but today she was worrying sick about her _almost_-son, Harry. Not only didn't he came for dinner, he didn't seem to have eaten a breakfast either. Worrying wasn't an occupation reserved to Molly that day, almost everybody in Grimmauld Place was in different states of anxiety. Almost, because strangely, Hermione, the same girl that yesterday was the most desesperated and worried, today seem to be calm and serene. Molly was still debating if it would do more good then bad to force Harry's door, Hermione wasn't the only one to have tested the barricade that had became the door to the master bedroom. She didn't have to try her chance again when she saw Harry in the stair, yawnng. He looked a lot better then the last few days, meaning he no longer looked like an inferi being used as a bludger in a quidditch game between slytherin and gryffondor. Now, he just looked like an inferi, minus the quidditch.

"Hello Molly, is there any leftover from the dinner somewhere I could eat if it's not too much of an hassle?"

"No problem my dear Harry, just take a seat I will bring you something" She said, going to the refrigerator, taking some leftover she have kept specially for him, heated them with a family house charm and brought them to Harry.

"Here you go. It's not as good as if it's fresh cooked, but if you don't want to eat reheated meal you should make sure to come to eat at the same time as everybody else." She said.

"Thanks"

When he had finished his plate, Harry caused a major surprise to almost everyone in the house, again Hermione being the exception, she was more happy then surprised, by not going immediately to his room but going in the living room with the rest of the Weasley family. Sure, he wasn't in a talkative state, talking only when asking a question, and his answer was real shorts one, like "yes", "no", "I don't know", but it was a beginning. He stayed an hour before going back to his room.

The following days, Harry stayed more and more outside his room, his answers began to lengthen and became more elaborate. He was going back to Harry Potter, the-one-they-all-knew-and-liked.

A/N. Harry's dream was pretty hard to write, I don't know if it _feel_ right. Tell me what you think of it. Thanks! (Still looking for a beta :P)


	4. Incoming Owl, Leaving Owl

A/N : Another chapter with no Beta so blame me and my not-so-good english writing skill for errors of any kind. If anybody want to become my beta, pm me.

Thanks Talen Dari, Vellouette, lovette for the review! This chap is for you guys!

Chapter 6.4. Incoming Owl, Leaving Owl.

-{6.4.1}-

While Harry was eating his breakfast on a wonderful morning of the last week of June, he suddenly heard a noise, which made him jump a little bit, so he looked around him nervously.

Hard to blame him, after everything he had to go through, a little paranoia doesn't seem so unhealthy. After all, it wasn't paranoia if they were really after you. The noise seem to come from the door, so Harry moved carefully toward it, wand in hand. He listened carefully and the sound was coming from the lower part of the door. Harry gather his courage through his left hand, turned the handle of the door and opened it. He looked down and saw an owl. A pretty strange owl, overall. He was looking straight at Harry, but his gaze seem to be on the human before him, on the house behind Harry and also looking at absolutely nothing. He hold his arm out for the owl, who climbed on it and rose one of its leg, where was tie up a letter. He took it, let the owl flight back home, and looked at the envelope. The mystery of the strange behaviour of the owl began to clear up when Harry saw who had send it. Luna Lovegood. As the addressee was "Harry Potter, the one and only resident of his pants", he presumed the letter was for him, afer all he _was _the resident of his pants, so he opened the envelope and begun to read the letter.

"_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I hope you have been able to go throught this harsh ordeal. I know how hard it is. Does Sparrow knocked on the door before coming in? It's not polite to enter one's home without asking the permission. There's only the Fidnéturas Kopoliptus, that you must know since they were in the latest edition of The Quibbler, who enter house uninvited. A funny muggle came home last week. How did he found the house I don't know, but he seems like a pleasant man and he wanted to show us the capability of an hoover. My dad and me were pretty impress by the ability of this muggle appliance, the best on the market available right now. I was able to convince my dad to buy it, but unfortunately, José 'Padro' Anil, the 'Sales representative of the best and most reliable vacuum cleaner maker in this part of the galaxy', that was his unofficial title, couldn't accept anything else than muggle money. And Mister Card. We subtly conjured a cat and called him Mister Card, but the salesman said it wasn't what he wanted. So we had, against our deepest wishes, to refuse the incredible offer he was giving us, more than a 60% rebate on the in-store price. An unbeatable offer in my opinion, and the salesman eagerly agreed with me. Talking about permission, I met at the beginning of the summer with Fudge, minister of magic and chief commander of the Heliopalegion( the name of his Heliopaths's army) concerning the battle in the Department of Mysteries. I took the title of '_ _spokesperson and chief negotiator of the DA', I hope you don't mind. As of you, your title is now 'Supreme Revered Chief of the Dumbledore Army', it's a lot better than 'the-one-who-lived', there's a lot more letters. 38 against 14. A lot better I'm telling you, more letters, more power. After heavy negociation, and one tea break, the tea was good, doughnuts were passable, I was able to obtain the lift of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for all the members of the DA who were present in the department of mysteries. Sorry I didn't told you sooner, we were pretty busy at home teaching Sparrow, our owl, to knock on the door, we couldn't send it to you before it's apprenticeship was over. So, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Me and Yo, can do magic outside of school now._

_Clinically yours,_

_Luna Lovegood_

_Spokesperson and chief negotiator of the DA_

Harry had just finished to read Luna's letter and he couldn't help it but smile. First of all, Luna's letter was bringing a lot of answer to the previous days questions, like where in the world is the owl supposed to bring us the letter of doom announcing their expulsion from Hogwart due to their underage usage of magic outside of school. Secondly, Harry now had a new title, with a lot more caracters then the previous one. And thirdly, Harry was thinking about Luna and her father, whom he didn't know but who after all was a Lovegood and chief editor of the Quibbler, admiring a vacuum cleaner from a door-to-door salesman. This letter was the ray of light of his morning. And it was explaining the strange comportement of _Sparrow_, the _owl_.

"Good morning Harry" told Hermione when she got in th dining room, "so, what could this letter be?"

"Well, it seems I now have another title to add at the end of my name. Now, I'm no longer only Harry the-one-who-lived Potter, I'm Harry Potter Supreme Revered Chief of the Dumbledore Army! This new title come with a bunch of advantages! For once, there's a lot more letter in this one than in my old one! He also let me do magic without any fear from the ministry and their restrictive underage wizard use of magic laws!"

Hermione was now looking at him with a worried and concerned look, wondering if Harry hadn't, after all those trials, finally giving in to a sweet madness. The newly crowned Chief of the Dumbledore Army him, hadn't stop talking.

"And a small detail, but of so great importance, did you know that door-to-door salesman can't accept wizard money? And that Mister Card the cat isn't a valid credit card?" His smile just got bigger, seeing his friend half-dumbfounded, half-worried expression, before stopping his little game and explaining himself.

"It's _Sparrow_, Luna's owl, who brought me this letter, here, read it, you'll understand"

Hermione took the letter from Harry's hand then started to read it, and her worries concerning her best friend mental health were dispelled rapidly. She couldn't stop herself from laughing while reading the letter, who was litteraly following the special thoughts of the ravenclaw's girl, and that was at the same time fascinating, and hilarious. And there was only one Luna Lovegood in all the world to call her owl _Sparrow_, to judge someone title by the number of character in it, to talk during more then half the letter about the qualities of a muggle vacuum cleaner and to let the main message of the letter at the end, like an after-thought. Luna was without a doubt a enthralling person.

When she finished the letter, Harry left the kitchen with a nod and went to Grimmauld Place's library, where he looked in two particular section, _Domestic magic_ and _transfiguration_, and after thirty minutes, he found what he was looking for and went straight to his room, crossing Hermione on his way out, whom would without a doubt read during most of the afternoon a collection of books, like she had done the previous days.

Once he was in the master bedroom, now his room, he started to seek the exact sorts he needed, to refresh the best he could both the furniture and the decoration his room. After all, the bedroom hadn't been redecorate since Sirius's mothers had died in it. And the style 'old bitter pureblood with a strong declination toward dark with _Toujours Pur_ as a slogan' wasn't really to Harry's taste. So he got down to work.

-{6.4.2}-

Hermione had a lot of things against Grimmauld Place. The dirtiness, the general dark atmosphere of the house, the snakes and a strong inclinaison toward evilness, made that inside the HQ of the Order of the Phoenix, she wasn't feeling quite home, quite the contrary. The facts that most of the portraits of the house were shouting mudblood everytime she pass in front of one of them didn't help at all. The only good thing about that house was it's library. The fact that Harry was living there was also another positive point, but that was another subject altogether. The room full of bookshelves themselves full of books was really the only place where Hermione felt 'home' inside Grimmauld Place. Even the three painting who were regulary shooting insult toward her when they felt like it, weren't able to shake that feeling. That was why she was spending most of her days inside the library. This summer, most of her book were about two main subjects : 'defense against the dark arts' and 'dueling'. There was a lot of books in those categories in the library, but unfortunately, most of them was a little bit too dark for her tastes. Some of those book were more toward 'fight with' then 'defense' against the dark arts.

She was currently reading 'Duelling, the art of doing it well, quickly', when Harry entered quietly inside the room. Even if he had been stealthy, which he was absolutely not, he wouldn't have been able to hide his presence to Hermione. She always knew if he were in the same woom as her, even if she had never told him of that 'gift'. Hary was subtly putting back his books in the shelves when Hermione decided it was about time she made her presence known.

"So Harry, did you find what you were looking for?"

"Hum... yeah, not exactly was I was looking for, but it got the job done"

"What were you looking for, I could perhaps help you find some books you overlook the first time?" she told him, getting up and going straight toward where he had begun putting back books.

"No, it's allright, the books had the informations I was looking for, everything is allright, you can continue reading" he told her really fast, and a little bit nervous.

Hermione, wondering what could get him this anxious, tried subtly to steal the books from Harry's arms, but he dodged her attemp. The idea of getting cought with a book on _domestic magic_ wasn't really appealing to Harry. It was already too much that the Dursleys was thinking about him as a cleaning _woman_, he didn't want girls, first of all Hermione, thought he was reading books to learn how to do the cleaning, the cooking or how to raise well-behave children, from what he had read of the table of contents. That was when he thought about using magic to get out of this bad situation. That was his last thought before landing on the floor with a loud '_tonk', _stunned.

Because of this, he wasn't able to see the triumphant look of Hermione of being able to get the book, melt into a look of worries from the rough landing of her friend. She levitating Harry on the library's couch, and finally took a glance at the book. She had had a million possibilities in her head, most of them implying Harry reading dark arts book, but she hadn't thought about THAT possibility. A book on _domestic magic_!? What could Harry have been looking for in this book? The best person to answer her question was a couple of meters away from her, on the couch, waiting to be enervated to let his anger flew out. Hermione, at the precise moment, thought it hadn't been that good of a decison to stupefy her best friend, a well-aimed Accio could have also done the job quite well.

"_Enervate_"

Harry awoke, look at her and told her : "It's not what you think!"

Hermione, whom was prepared to face Harry's wrath, decided to hear what he had to say. "I hadn't time to think about anything right now, why don't you explain yourself, it would be a lot simpler..."

"Follow me."

Harry took her by her hand, and brought her in front of his bedroom's door.

"Here's the reason why I read _part_ of this book." He told her, opening the door. She was completely amazed by what she saw. Instead of a sinister room like the rest of the house, Harry's room was now warm and inviting. So inviting, in fact, that Hermione didn't wait until Harry give her the permission to enter it before going in and inspecting the new decoration. Not only had he changed the walls's painting, wallpapers, the carpet, the lights, he had changed the furniture too. They were now old and elegant, instead of old and rotting.

"Wow, I would like to sleep in your bed" she said, thinking about the more then doubtful she had at the HQ to try to sleep in. It was only when she saw the grin on her friend's face that she revisited her sentence, and quickly saw what her friend was finding funny.

"No, I didn't want to say your bed like _your_ bed, more like the bed in which you sleep" she said quickly, blushing, before, yet another time, tried to restore the true meaning of her sentence.

"No, no!" I want to say in a bed like this one", this one was the good one, no second connation. "Talking about bed like this one... I would be pretty happy if someone would be generous enough to transfigure mine to something a little bit better. And it seems one of my friend now know how to do it. And that friend really don't want his best mate to mysteriously learn what kind of book he read." She said, hoping to be able to sleep in his bed. On a bed like his, after mental revision.

-{6.4.3}-

Harry was beginning to be pretty tired. Not only did he have to transfigure Hermione's bed, he had to do Ginny's too. In truth, it was always better not to take any chance with Weasley's jealousy, even if that trait was a lot less present in Ginny then in her older brother Ron. When Harry thought his transfiguration work for the day was over in the girls's room, Ginny came into the room. Hermione explained to her Harry's new talent for transfiguration of bed, and in the middle of the conversation, trying to look as unconcerned as possible, she said :

"Oh Ginny, you should see what he did in his room, he have completely redesign his room, he's really good in this transfiguration's field"

"Harry!" She adressed her friend sharply, while he was trying to get out of the room unnoticed. "Where do you think you are going? It seeem you have other talents you _absolutely_ have to show me! You could start by painting that wall a beautiful green, let's say 'mexican cactus'?"

It was the beginning of the end for Harry. Not only did he have to repaint all of the walls, each a couple of time because of Ginny's frequent change of _favorite_ green shade, he also had to change the carpet's color and texture, change the moulding and transfigure the full set of furnitures in the room, a couple of times. Now the two teenagers girls seems, at last in Harry's opinion, satisfied, so he took that opportunity to slip away, while they were _both_ content with the changes. He decided to go to Ron's room, and tired, he only change his bed, deciding it would be the only think his best friend would find important. He found his friend in the living room and begun to lose a chess game. In the middle of his fourth _soon-to-be_ loss, Ginny and Hermione came into the living room to observe Ron's victory streak being incremented by one yet another time.

"So Harry, did you talk to Ron about your new talents?' asked Ginny, clearly amused.

"New talents, what are you talking about Ginny?" answered Ron.

"Oh, it seem he forgot to tell you what he is now able to do! Harry's new talents are _really _attractive for us girls, he really know how to _please_ us now."

"What have you done to my little sister Potter" asked a little bit coolly to Harry, already weary of his youger sister game.

"I just redecorate my room, and since Hermione have _begged_ me to redesign their, well, I did it. When I got out, I was a quite tired magically with all those transfigurations, repainting, yadda, yadda, yadda. I did have enough energy thought too transfigure your bed, so you now have a _queen_ bed Ron! I hope it doesn't upset you too much that I did it without asking you before. I could change it back you know"

Ron's eyes were shining, but when Harry finished it's last sentence, Ron immediatly answered Harry.

"Don't change a thing! Don't worry, I would have accepted!" said Ron, still looking like he was about to do something stupid, like jumping in Harry's arms. He decided instead, to Harry's relief, to go do a test run of his new bed.

"Ron! If you leave in the middle of a game without a very important reason, doesn't it count like a forfeit, meaning a _loss_?" asked Hermione, stopping him in his track. He then looked at Harry, who couldn't refuse the pleading look of his best friend, clearly torn between a new bed and the end of his long victory streak.

"Anyway, I had to write a letter, it will be better for all involved party if we were just cancelling this game" Harry's said, in a generous mood. As soon as _cancelling_ was out of Harry's mouth, Ron continued his quest for his new bed, without looking back. Harry too, went to his room, because he really had to send a letter. It was June 30th, and Dudley would be waiting for Harry's news during the night. He had writed a couple of sentences when Hermione knocked on the door, and he let her in.

"So Harry, who are you writing to? You must be writing to Luna, right? Thanks her for all of us for our newly acquired right to use magic she have been able to deal."

"Sorry Hermione, I'm not writing to Luna right now. You could write to her and thank her yourself."

"If you're not writing to Luna, who are you writing to?" she asked.

"Hermione, when did you begun to take interest in my personnal correspondence?"

His sentence had the wished effect on his best non-male friend. Blushing, she started to mumble an answer.

"No, it's not like I'm taking an interest in your personnal mail, it's just that, you know, well, I was thinking that right now the only person you had to write to was Luna, because she had sent you a letter, and that most of your close friend, including me, are here with you, but you have the right to send letter to who you want, well, I believe." Harry's smiled and answered her.

"Indead! I have the right to write to whom I want, but if you want to know who I'm writing too, you have to guess it!"

"Cho Chang"

"Not a chance" he answered, not stopping writing his letter.

"Katie Bell"

"No"

"Angelina Johnson"

"Again, no" 'She must think I'm writing a letter concerning quidditch' he thought.

"Gabrielle Delacour"

"Even less likely", 'not concerning quiddith finally'

"Lavande Brown"

"Not a chance",

"One of the Patil's twin"

"See last answer"

"Both twin?"

"I won't grant an answer to this one"

"Susan Bones"

"It's a great idea, but no", 'She seem pretty sure I'm sending a letter to a girl, no?'

"Tonks"

"She was here like two hours ago, why would I be sending a letter, she's here everyday!"

"Emma Dobbs"

"Emma who? Well, I'll tell you, it will make sure you don't create name out of nowhere. Dudley. I'm writing to Dudley Dursley.

Hermione's face was so funny Harry would have given almost anything to get a pensieve at that moment, to share with the world this really funny moment.

"Dudley?"

"As strange as it can look like, it seem Dudley is rather fascinated by magic and it's, _our_, world. More so since a pretty bad episod with dementors. He wished to train to kick their ass muggle style but now he know he can't… Anyway, I spend most of my night talking to him at Privet Drive, We have to keep it secret, I unfortunately think his parents would kick him out if they knew. He asked me to send him a letter once a month, to keep contact, he will answer back with the owl I send him the same night to keep thing easier."

"Hedwidg, come here my dear, I got a message for you. It's for Dudley, wait until he open his window tonight to give him. Try not to make any noise. I know you're good at it. Wait there, he will send a message back. Thanks"

Hermione was still looking at him with a dumbfounded look, less surprise, but still a pretty funny sight.

"Come on, it's time to go eat" he said to her, going out of his room.

A/N : So, did you liked Luna's letter?


End file.
